I've Been Through Harder
by Secretdoors97
Summary: A couple one-shots of our favorite Dragon Age couples as parents!
1. What's The Matter?

The crying ripped through the hallways again and again. The baby had been crying for a good ten minutes now, or rather…ten minutes since Fenris had gone in to quiet her. Hawke sat up in bed, feeling groggy and a little aggravated from their child's loud cries.

She ripped the covers off of her and stumbled towards the nursery. Fenris rocked and bounced the baby girl, trying to calm her down as best he could. He was humming, stroking her hair, trying to get her to go back to sleep, but she was not having it.

"Is she all right?" Hawke stepped into the nursery, trying to keep her voice down so she did not frighten her child any more. Fenris moved the child gently upwards so that she was leaning against his shoulder, and crying right into his ear.

"I'm not sure. I've burped her, rocked her… perhaps something frightened her?" Hawke scanned the room for any hint of something that would frighten an infant, only shadows and tiny rag dolls. Just to be sure, Hawke covered said dolls with a blanket.

"A bad dream maybe?"

"Do infants even dream?" Hawke regarded him for a moment. He was being serious, she knew. Fenris did not seem the paternal type, and he had been very uncertain and nervous during her pregnancy, claiming he knew close to nothing about caring for an infant. She could not blame him, more than likely the chance to change a diaper had never presented to him in Tevinter.

"Yes." She said calmly. "They do." The cries were beginning to wane, but that did not mean the girl was done wailing yet. Hawke rubbed her eyes, she was exhausted and clueless. She had cared for Carver and Bethany a few times in the past back in Lothering when her mother was busy, but Leandra had always come to assist her if she needed it. What she would give for her mother to be here to tell her what to do.

"Here…let me see her." Hawke reached out and allowed Fenris to hand her the wailing child. Hawke bounced her for a moment, patting and rubbing her back while trying to calm her. "When was the last time we fed her?"

"The last time she woke us up." Fenris replied simply, stretching his arms above his head. He looked just as tired as she felt. What time could it have been? Two? Three in the morning maybe?

"Diaper?"

"Clean." Hawke nodded, and Fenris looked amused. "I am not entirely clueless when it comes to these things Hawke." He pointed out. Hawke opened her mouth to defend herself, when the cries began to come to a halt, and the baby began to calm down. Both parents looked at each other with relief as the crying stopped, and silence ensued.

"Oh thank the…" Hawke was cut off by a nasty coughing noise, and something warm running down her back. She dared not move, and glanced at Fenris out of the corner of her eye, who was doing all he could not to laugh.

"Well…there is the problem…" He covered his mouth with his fist, and "coughed".

"Just…take her…take her!" Fenris lifted the child away from her, chuckling and set her back in the cradle. Hawke felt the spit-up in her hair and down her back, and felt repulsed.

"Would you like a towel?" Fenris mused.

"Don't get too smart elf…or I'll aim her at _you_ next time…"


	2. Cliched Family Moments

"Have you ever _held_ a child before, Daylen?" Morrigan asked, as she inspected the way the mage was holding the squirming baby.

"I grew up in a _tower_ woman. I haven't had much experience with childcare."

"Evidently." Morrigan said, crossing the room to where Daylen Amell sat with their son. She wasn't entirely certain of how she felt about Daylen helping her in raising their son. He was not even supposed to follow her when she had left. Yet he had searched for her…

She took the child from Daylen's arms and cradled him. He was still a babe after all, and small enough to be cradled in his mother's arms. Daylen watched for a moment, blushing at his mistakes. "Like this." She instructed, handing the child back to his father. Daylen took him in his arms again, properly, this time. The child was still fussy, but not as bad as before. He only really seemed calm when he was held by Morrigan, and Morrigan was never hesitant to hold her son. It was a feeling that was so foreign to her, loving something so much. She vowed that while she would teach her son well, her lessons and her form of upbringing would be fairer than Flemeth's.

"I think he's calming down!" Daylen said proudly. At that, Morrigan had to smile. Daylen was simple at times. Growing up in the tower, there were so many things neither of them were very accompanied to, people and cities for one thing, parenting for another. He was a good man, a fair one, and she had been surprised when he agreed to her ritual. In hindsight, it was more than likely because Daylen did not want to die, and she did not want to see him dead either.

"T'would appear so." Morrigan said calmly, and took a seat in the chair next to Daylen. The baby cried out, and both parents flinched to see what was wrong. The child grew silent, and Daylen chuckled. "And what is so funny?"

"Have you ever imagined us as parents? I know I haven't." Their son wrapped a tiny hand around Daylen's finger. Morrigan had always known from a young age that this was to be her fate. She would carry the child with the soul of an old god… but Daylen had no notion of knowing he would father it. For right now, the child was normal enough, like a normal baby who cried when he was hungry or wet…only he wasn't an ordinary child, and Morrigan was more than happy with that. In truth, his parents were not so normal either.

Morrigan smiled as the almost clichéd family scene unfolded around her. _An apostate, a Grey Warden, and a small, old god. _ She thought. _It certainly makes growing up with Flemeth less odd._ She thought back to her mother, Daylen had killed her for Morrigan. It was for the best, in the end. Flemeth did not deserve her body, her being. And if it was done without Daylen's knowing… _my mother does not deserve Daylen_. She thought. _But then again…I did not think I did either._


	3. Arts and Crafts

"We'll be back by tomorrow."

"Yes, I know.

"His food is in the cupboard if he's hungry."

"Yes, you've told me."

"Read to him before he goes to bed brother, he does so love that."

"I won't forget." Nathaniel Howe smiled sweetly at his sister. "Don't worry Delilah, no harm will come to him while I'm watching him."

"I know. I just…this is the first time away from him. I'm nervous, that's all. And besides, Grey Wardens aren't the best baby sitters." _Well, the Warden Commander was almost a nanny to Anders and Oghren_… Nathaniel thought, but shrugged and smiled again.

"I intend to prove you wrong." Nathaniel opened the front door for his sister, and brother-by-law. "Don't worry…everything will be fine."

"I know." Delilah kissed her brother on the cheek. "And thank you again." They left, leaving Nathaniel alone with his two-year-old nephew. Admittedly, he had been hesitant to accept his sister's request to watch him, but she was the only family he had left, and he owed her that much for being away while their father went mad.

Nathaniel glanced at the child playing soundly with a pair of wooden blocks. His dark hair was messy, per usual, and he was humming a tuneless little toddler song. _This shouldn't be too hard. _Nathaniel thought. _He'll behave_.

Taking a seat near his nephew, he watched the child for a moment, the way he lined up the blocks, only to knock them down, or smash small, wooden soldiers together to mimic battle. Nathaniel leaned his head on his hand, and before he could catch himself, fell asleep.

XXX

Nathaniel opened his eyes lazily, and noted the small child still seating with his blocks and dolls. _How long had I been out_? He blinked and rubbed his eyes.

"Uncle? I'm hungry." His little nephew looked up with big eyes. His speech was still that of a babe's, but Nathaniel could still understand his slight blubbering. He stood, and headed to the cupboard, where Delilah had left something for her son to eat. He listened over his shoulder as he prepared the food, and the absence of the sound of rattling wood made him wary. He took a few steps back and glanced over his shoulder. The child had vanished, and Nathaniel had almost dropped the plate.

A banging sound told him where his nephew had vanished to. He hurried in that direction, though he was already too late. When he entered the small room, the wall closest to him was already dark with black, dried ink, and the boy had opened another bottle, and proceeded to smear it on the wall again. _He must have done that while I slept…_ Horror consumed Nathaniel when he realized there was no way he would be able to get that ink off the walls.

"Maker…" He breathed, a hand hovering above the walls, afraid to touch them. "What did you…? How did you….?" He couldn't finish a sentence, only glance at the ruined walls, and to his nephew, whose lower lip was jutted out. He knew he had done something wrong.

"You don't like it?" The child said, voice cracking.

"Your mother might not…" Nathaniel muttered, quietly enough for the child not to hear. He looked over, and almost slammed his head against the wall when he saw that the boy too, was covered in ink. "Delilah's going to _kill _me…" He shook his head. _Even a Grey Warden cannot protect himself from the wrath of an angry sister…_ He knelt down and took the bottle of ink from the child, and set it high on the wardrobe. "Come on…we need to get you cleaned up." He said. "And the wall too…somehow."


End file.
